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User blog:BacaloV/RP Starting Scenes
Under Black Wings From afar, it looked like a pillar of black smoke rising to the sky. Approaching, the smoke separated into many, many, many smaller parts until it became clear that it was not smoke at all. Rather, it was a pillar of birds, large, black vultures circling over the ground. The sheer amount of them made it clear that it could not be just a single corpse underneath those heavy, flapping wings, and those greedy, pearl-like eyes. At the bottom of the flock of birds, on the dusty, hard ground, birds landed and rised again, often with a blood-smeared, dripping piece of flesh between their beaks. Blood sickered into the ground, dying the usually light brown earth in crimson, then in black. From above, the blood-soaked earth formed a rough circle, accented with the shiny sparks of metal reflecting the sunlight. In the very center of this flower of death and violence, a single figure kneeled on the ground. If it weren't for her open eyes and rugged breath, the amount of blood on her might make appear her as one of the corpses around her. Staring at the mockingly clear blue sky, each of her hands was clenched around a roughly crafted, scratched up swords. No one, not even herself would have been able to tell how long she had been in this position. Her long, blonde hair, crusted with blood and dirt, flowed lightly in the mild wind, which did nothing to clear the horrendous smell of blood and death. Slowly, as if moving through water, she got up. Emotionless, her eyes scanned over the corpses knowing fully well that they had been slain by her own hands. Slowly, she trudged over the dead, shooing the angered vultures out of her way. A bit away from the slaughter, like a trusty horse, a single motorcycle stood ready. The woman, noticing somewhere in her mind that she had lost her weapons on her short march, mounted the vehicle, started the engine and left, rapidly approaching the horizon without looking back even once. End of the hunt With the sound of steel scraping over bones and the wet noise of a blade being retrieved from flesh, she pulled her sword out of the man's throat. She had to pull a bit as the weapon had titlted in the iron ruff of his armor, not that it had protected him all too well. After a quick check for scratches and notches, not more than expected, Astrid sheather her sword and took off her helmet. Once free from the suffocating steel, she took a deep breath and looked around to assess the situation. In a slight curve behind her, the corpses of several men formed a more or less direct line to her last victim and original target. She had managed to get the first two one with a shot in the throat respectively the chest, but the others had closed in too fast to allow her reloading her gun a third time. The others, 5, no 6 after a quick look, had fallen prey to her sword. With a sigh, the woman kneeled down, removed the man's armor from his throat and took a khukri from her belt. The blade, broad, heavy and curved forward somehow disgusted her, as always. She knew it was a good weapon, but aside from this special part of her work, she was reluctant to use it. In any case, the sooner she got it done, the sooner she could leave. Gripping the man by the hair and pulling his neck as long as possible, she lunged out and chopped the man's head off with a single swing. The sound of his neck and spine being cut through at once resembled cutting through a water melon, only that the hard part was inside. Her own thoughts made her shudder and she got back up. Stuffing the head in a bag, she whistled twice and wiped the khukri with a piece of cloth. Once her horse, she had gotten it just recently, the last one broke his leg while jumping over a low wall, had come out of the tall grass, she tied the bag to the saddle and mounted in a fluent, routined motion. After a last look on what used to be the men's camp and was now their grave, she lead her horse back on the road and looked forward to her reward, a bath and a bed. Category:Blog posts